Page 7 of Rescued Hearts

“How do you know I don’t need cream?”

“You look like a black coffee kind of guy.” She started to turn back to her own drinks, and instead reached for a cardboard sleeve. “You might want this too.”

He frowned. “I don’t need—”

Her gaze flicked to his hand. “Your hands look really soft.”

He narrowed his eyes. Was he being punked? His brothers said that kind of shit to him all the time. They were Navy SEALs; he was a Navy pilot. They just loved to joke about his soft hands.

“Have you ever been to the Black Heart?” he blurted out.

Her arched brows furrowed. “Black Heart?”

“My family’s ranch.” He continued to study her, skeptical about her reaction. “Or met my brothers?”

Confusion stole over her features. “Nope. I’m new in town.”

That stopped Gray. New. It explained why in a town where everyone knew each other, she was unfamiliar to him, and why she hadn’t given him a wide berth when she saw him.

She grabbed a couple sugar packets, which made several bracelets circling her wrist clink together. She thrust the packets at him. “Here. You could use a little sugar in your life.”

He just stared at her. Then she flashed another easy, unbothered smile at him and returned to her own drinks.

He left the shop, coffee with the lid and the damn stupid little paper sleeve in his hand. Something about the whole exchange stuck with him as he strode down the sidewalk and jaywalked across the street to his parked truck.

She hadn’t rushed to get out of his way. She was completely unaffected by his presence.

And the way she looked at him…studiedhim…felt like she had figured out too much.

He jumped behind the wheel and set the coffee in the cupholder without even taking a sip of the drink he needed so badly only a few minutes before. Now, all he could think about was how he looked to the world. How he appeared on the outside.

Besides her insult about having soft hands, the woman told him that he needed a little sugar in his life. If she hadn’t met his brothers, shehadto know Willow. His sister was always telling him to lighten up, which wasn’t far off from sweeten up.

He started the engine but sat there a minute longer, staring at the exit of the coffee shop. When the woman finally emerged, the mountain breeze caught her long wavy hair and the thin cotton of her dress and swished both around her body.

For the first time in a long time, someone had looked at him. Not as the rigid ex-pilot, not as the guy everyone counted on, but as a person.

And Gray wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Chapter Three

Balancing on one leg, Honor snaked out the other foot and used it to shut the van door. Arms filled with bags, she turned toward her sister’s front door. A bouquet of fresh flowers on top of one bag teetered, threatening to fall to the pavement, but she jostled the bag to keep it from falling out.

The sidewalk was lined with pink and white tulips, which Honor had been admiring from her bedroom window each morning since her arrival. Somewhere down the street, a neighbor started up some lawn equipment, the engine a low whine.

Reaching the entrance, she juggled the packages to free one hand enough to open the door. She backed through the door and nudged it shut with her foot the same way she did her van door.

“Is that you, Honor?” her sister called out.

“Yes!”

The notes of fresh herbs struck her senses, and she groaned with hunger as she entered the kitchen.

Felicity looked up from the cutting board she stood over, eyes widening as she saw the number of packages Honor held.

She set them all down on the table. “Is that basil I smell?”

“Yup. I’m making pesto.”

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